Sidekick'd
by BittersweetSonata
Summary: Drabbles and one-shots. The story of a hooded vigilante and his Friday girl slash IT genius partner in justice;—oliver ო felicity
1. Chapter 1

**title: **Starts With

**summary: **Felicity encounters Oliver, and she doesn't know that her life has just changed forever. Not yet.

**pairing: **Oliver & Felicity

**setting: **in canon

**notes: **I told someone that I wouldn't be updating anything more this month. This is a new drabble series...so it doesn't technically count, right? Anyway, this pairing is just cool, okay. I ship them so hard, and thus I had to write something for them. Drabbles are my new thing, so yeah.

**thoughts: **Is anyone else excited that Oliver is going to train Roy? I have been waiting for this since last _spring. _**  
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**dedication: **Thank _you, _dad. For convincing me to put my book down and watch this show with you two years ago. Or whatever fall 2012 counts as.

**disclaimer: **I own nothing.

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It all starts when he comes into her office seeking her help with 'his' laptop and covering it up with some horrible excuse. It is riddled with bullet holes and all he says is that he spilled coffee on it. A latte, to be specific. Lattes do not do that much damage. They might fry your hard drive and screw you over, but they don't burn holes in it.

She's skeptical, but technically he's kind of her boss, so what else can she do but comply? She is just another 'replaceable' IT girl working for Queen Consolidated, and she really needs this job. She has hidden potential, although it's unbeknownst to the higher-ups of the company, a certain someone seems to take notice.

Because he comes back. He returns with something else for her to do, and another BS story to back it up.

She's the best at what she does, technically. Even Walter Steele knows it – probably.

It makes her more than a little suspicious, but she doesn't show it on the outside. At least, she doesn't _think _that she shows it. It's not like this millionaire playboy can read the emotions flashing in her eyes, right? Ha, very funny.

She doesn't want to admit that he's handsome, that she's totally crushing on this guy who is way, _way _out of her league and more than likely lying straight to her face. She may be blond – actually, she dyes her hair but _so what? _– but she's not stupid.

_Definitely _not stupid.

This is not her thing, she tells herself. She does _not _crush on Starling's prettiest playboy, who has just returned from the dead, like some giddy schoolgirl. Then she promptly lays her head on the desk and mentally berates herself for calling him 'pretty.'

He _is _pretty though.

He brings Yuletide greetings and great tidings of joy (although not really, it's an arrow, seriously) to her. She's just sitting in her small office and he just walks in with that stupid smile and some other dumb excuse and she just…lets him. Before he leaves he tells her to have a merry Christmas and she thinks it's kind of sweet. But still. She has no brain-to-mouth filter and so she blurts out that she's Jewish before she can stop herself and wow does it ever get awkward.

He takes it all in a stride and wishes her a happy Hanukkah.

She starts to look forward to his ridiculous cover-up stories every time he comes to see her. They just keep getting worse – although the latte one will forever be hard to top – and he always manages to speak them with a straight face. She _has _to learn how to do that.

The next time he visits her, he brings her Vertigo, claiming that his friend is starting up an energy drink company that work wonders with hangovers. And, yes, it's in a syringe because he ran out of sports bottles.

That one hurts her. Like, straight-to-the-soul, physical pain kind of hurts. But later she does find it hilarious and while she's running tests on the stuff in the syringe, she laughs. That is, until she discovers that it's a dangerous drug that has been ravaging the city's streets for months.

Later, after it's all said and done, she asks him if she can trust him. That small notebook is important, but it's like a sinful secret that she can't keep to herself anymore. It's something that has strings attached – to _what, _she doesn't know, but she fears that Walter has lost his life because of it. Someone else needs to know.

He tells her she can trust him, and she believes him for some absurd reason. Moira Queen isn't the only one hiding something, and this man has dropped a lot of ridiculously horrible lies on her, but she feels it deep inside her. Something tells her she can trust him.

So she does.

That small token is repaid a few weeks later when she finds the Vigilante – aka, Oliver Queen – bleeding out in her backseat. Her life takes a turn, and, she suddenly finds herself as one of his team. For just a little while, she tells herself.

Only, it's not just a little while. Because, the moment that Oliver first stepped into her office carrying a laptop full of bullet holes and armed with a complete BS excuse, her life was changed forever.

And who's to say that it wasn't for the better?

So yeah, she's kind of like a genius IT sidekick to one of the most dangerous men in the city, and her best friend is ex-military and the personal bodyguard of one Oliver Queen who moonlights as Starling's hooded hero. But it's her life, and she's okay with that.

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**end notes: **Hopefully I didn't totally fail. I look forward to seeing you all next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**title: **the mighty fall (asleep)

**summary: **Oliver sure looks peaceful when he sleeps.

**pairing: **oliver & felicity

**setting: **in canonverse

**notes: **so like, roy's now on team arrow. i was excited, 'cause ya know, we've been waiting for this for a while.

**disclaimer: **own nothing

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Sometimes, the criminals of Starling City must take a vacation – or at least fly under the radar. That's what Felicity thinks as she sits at her desk surrounded by computer monitors with a mug of tea in her hands. It's been an extremely slow night, and she's almost ready to just go home and call it quits.

Granted, she never exactly just _quits _for the night – that would be catastrophic. Of course, it's not like Oliver, Digg, and Roy _can't _function without her but, yeah, she's basically running the whole show from behind the scenes. Maybe she doesn't go out and give the beat down to bad guys, but she could cut them off from any outside resources without hardly lifting a finger.

Yeah, she's just that cool.

The blond leans back in her chair and stretches, emitting a long, drawn-out yawn as she does so. Her eyes travel to the clock on her computer screen and she jumps when she realizes that it's half-past two in the morning.

It's true that she has stayed up later helping with the crusade for Starling, but right now, with Isabel Rochev setting her sights on those other shares of Queen's Consolidated, they just can't afford to mess up. And that's a side effect to sleep deprivation.

Felicity hums quietly to herself as she gathers her things. It's strangely quiet in the foundry, and it has been for a while. She's aware that Roy left sometime around midnight, and that Oliver has all but disappeared. It had been just the three of them tonight – because John Diggle had a date. So.

She shrugs her shoulders and finishes pulling on her sweater. Oliver is bound to be around here somewhere, so maybe she would just call out and let him know she's headed home.

The MIT graduate rubs her eyes as she walks toward the stairs, and she's just about to tell him she's leaving before she sees it. It makes her stop dead in her tracks and slowly turn.

When she had redecorated the basement of Verdant, she'd put in a comfortable couch. The blond had learned her lesson months before after spending countless nights at the 'Arrow Cave', as she had now dubbed it. One time, she'd even slept on one of Oliver and Digg's training mats, choosing it over her chair. That had been an admittedly bad idea because, for the next few days after that, her neck had been so stiff and it ached like there was no tomorrow.

The couch was not a bad idea, however, and it was surprisingly comfortable – she'd know, because she has already resumed her almost sleepovers at Verdant. Felicity sighs forlornly as she realizes that her social life is pretty much nonexistent.

But. Back to the matter at hand.

Otherwise known as, Oliver fast asleep on her couch.

Well, it's not really _her _couch because it's not in her house, but she's getting off track.

Felicity Smoak has never seen Oliver Queen sleeping other than the times she's helped Digg stitch him up, or that time when he passed out in the backseat of her car after bleeding all over it. Because, you know, his mom shot him and wow, the rich residents of Starling have some _serious _problems.

Let her reiterate. Felicity has never seen Oliver sleeping _peacefully. _It's a sight that makes her smile softly.

He looks younger when he sleeps like that, she thinks. There are no worry lines, no hardened island mask, no anger, no intent of putting an arrow into someone. He's just…Oliver. Albeit a sleeping Oliver who has no idea that she's totally creeping on him right now, but.

She kind of really wants to poke his cheek and see what happens, but she doesn't.

Felicity shakes her head and tries not to wake the whole building – not that anyone else is there – and comes to a stop beside the couch. She reaches over and pulls a blanket off the back – it's one from her apartment, because she has so many – and lays it over him.

"You're ridiculous." she whispers, but smiles and shakes her head at the same time.

Her heels click quietly against the cement, and then the staircase as she heads toward the door. With one last look at her sleeping boss – that goes for both of her jobs – she slips out and into the deserted club.

She thinks, this is a whole new side of Oliver.

And that maybe she should have taken a picture of him just so she could see his reaction in a few hours.

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**end notes: **so yep.


End file.
